


Within You, Without You

by SkewedReality



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Sebklaine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkewedReality/pseuds/SkewedReality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's early June of 1967 when it all becomes too much and Blaine Anderson, the straight-laced son of an upper class family being groomed to follow in his father's footsteps, decides to take a walk to clear his head. What he never expected that night was to meet two people who would change his life forever. [Romantic!Sebklaine]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Within You, Without You

**I**

\----------

“ _We were talking--about the space between us all and the people--who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion. Never glimpse the truth--then it's far too late--when they pass away.”_

\----------

It’s stifling sometimes to be the son of Bill Anderson. 

It’s easy, in a way, because there’s no mystery. Blaine’s been told from the time he was old enough to walk where his life was destined to go. The same place his father’s had. The same place Cooper’s had. Blaine was destined to be the next in a long line of Andersons to work at the family law practice. (The oh-so-aptly named _Anderson and Anderson’s Law Office_.) 

If you ask Blaine, that’s a whole lot of _Andersons_.

Sometimes, he wants to forget that he’s an Anderson (from the long, prestigious line of Andersons, he’s been told.) and just be _Blaine._

In short, he just doesn’t want it. The power. The privilege. The _anything_. 

But he knows it’s exactly what’s going to happen. 

He’s an Anderson, and Andersons are well-respected men who sit at the _top_ of the ladder. They are cool and collected, and they most certainly do not engage in frivolous activities such as singing or dancing. Or at least, that’s what Blaine’s been told. Over and over and over again. 

Even now, as he watches his father lift his glass in a toast to whichever member of the firm had made partner this month, he feels the knot of his tie pressing against his throat, choking and suffocating him as he watches the scene play out like a twisted glimpse into his own future. There is light party chatter and the clinking of glasses, just a typical occasion at the Westerville Country Club, but tonight for some reason, it’s worse. And Blaine just has to get out to clear his head. 

He yanks at the knot on his tie, desperately trying to alleviate some of the constricting pressure on his throat, and takes a deep breath of fresh air. It’s warm in the way an early June evening normally is. The sun is just going down over the horizon and he thinks that maybe it might be beautiful were he in any state to enjoy it.

Instead, he just walks, letting his mind wander as he focuses on the steady rhythm of his feet on the sidewalk, carrying him toward wherever they’re carrying him. It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s _away._

It turns out that _away_ is a park at the end of the block. It's mostly empty, save for a few people passing through, and Blaine takes it as his first stroke of luck that evening and drops down heavily onto a bench with a sigh, his head lolling back as he squeezes his eyes shut and wills his mind to just stop racing for just one second so that he can catch his breath. 

It's not normally this difficult, but lately, with graduation looming and his father breathing down his neck to apply to Princeton, ( _“They've got the best law school in the country, Blaine, and you're a shoo in since your grandfather and I went there. Cooper got in on a free ride.”_ ) little moments of peace are hard to come by. 

Usually, the little moments come after his family goes to bed and he's able to lie on the floor with his headphones on and listen to his stereo. He'd actually stopped at the record shop on his way home from school today to pick up the new Beatles record. He had to sneak it into the house in his backpack, but he managed to tuck it under his mattress right before his father came in to tell him to get dressed for the party, so he hadn't even gotten a chance to listen to it yet. (If his father had seen it, he would have taken it. Citing, “I don't want this filling your head with nonsense, Blaine.” as his reason before taking the record away, just as he had so many others.)

“Hey, man. What's the matter?” 

Blaine feels himself jump at the sound of a voice so close and his eyes fly open to see the concerned face of a tall sandy blond boy who looks not much older than himself. “Excuse me?” 

The tall blond laughs and gestures inquiringly toward the empty spot on the bench and Blaine nods. “You look awful down for someone who's dressed so sharp,” the stranger points out as he sits down beside Blaine. Even in the dim streetlights that line the path running through the park, Blaine can see the bright green of the boy's eyes and the warm, genuinely concerned, smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

Blaine rallies and straightens up, unwilling to offer up his life story to a stranger. “I could ask you the same question,” he deflects politely. His response is met by another quiet laugh from the stranger. 

“My friend and I come here every night to watch the sunset from under that tree and we noticed you sitting here. You looked really sad, so he said I should come over and ask you what's wrong,” the boy says, shrugging. 

Now that Blaine knows what he's looking for, he actually does see another boy sitting on the grass, leaning against a tree almost out of eyesight, so he nods. “There's nothing wrong...” He trails off at the politely reprimanding expression on the boy's face and lets out a breath. “My dad is having a party at the country club for a guy who made partner at his law firm and I had to get out of there.” 

“Ooh, a rich boy,” the stranger says with a teasing lilt, and Blaine can't help the small smile that lifts the corner of his lips. “Well, this must be my lucky day.”

“I'm not rich. My father is,” Blaine points out, still smiling lightly. 

“I know how that goes. My old man is some big wig lawyer, too.” He waves his hand dismissively before holding it out toward Blaine. “Sebastian Smythe.” 

Blaine takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. “Blaine Anderson.” 

A crooked smile touches Sebastian's face and he releases Blaine's hand to gesture over his own shoulder toward where his friend is sitting. “Well, Blaine Anderson, you wanna come sit with us? The sun's almost down, but you look like you could use some company.” 

Blaine lets his eyes stray to where Sebastian is gesturing, seeing a boy watching them intently, so he nods. “Alright. That'd be cool.” 

He shoves his hands in his pockets and follows Sebastian in silence, standing awkwardly when Sebastian drops down beside his friend and wraps an arm around his waist in a way that seems to speak to a familiarity that extends beyond friendship. All at once, Blaine feels his face heat up and he's glad to have the cover of relative darkness to hide his blush. 

“Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson,” Sebastian introduces, stretching out his legs and looking up toward Blaine. “Blaine, this is my very good friend, Kurt Hummel.” 

Kurt smiles and leans closer into Sebastian's side, his head falling to rest on Sebastian's shoulder as he extends a hand toward Blaine. 

“Friend?” Blaine squeaks, the question coming out before Blaine even has a chance to filter it. He kicks himself as he grimaces and reaches the small distance to shake Kurt's hand, sure that he's just managed to piss off the two boys, but Kurt just laughs, the sound high, soft, and alight with amusement. 

“Why don't you sit down and join us, Blaine Anderson?” Kurt suggests, pointedly ignoring Blaine's question in a way Blaine is sure is just to let him off the hook, so he mumbles out his thanks as he sits down. “You look very nice.” 

“He's dressed for a party at the country club,” Sebastian says, pulling Kurt closer and pressing a careless kiss to his temple. Kurt seems to glow at the affection, and Blaine can't help but feel a little dizzy at the way Kurt's smile hits him like a wrecking ball. 

“Oh, really,” Kurt asks, sounding intrigued. “What's that like? My dad was never rich enough to get in there, and Seb ran away before he was ever invited to his first party.” 

“It's alright,” Blaine says with a shrug, his eyes falling to his lap as the memory of light, forced laughter and oppressive formality returns. 

“If it's 'alright', then why are you here instead of there?” Kurt asks.

“I just had to get away for a little while. It's--It's a lot sometimes,” Blaine offers, unsure why he can't seem to stop himself. “It's just not my scene, really.” 

Sebastian looks up toward Blaine's face. “What _is_ your scene, Blaine Anderson?” 

Blaine opens his mouth to speak, though he's unsure of exactly what he's going to say. He closes it just as quickly. Honestly, he has no idea what his _scene_ is. All he can offer is a quiet, “I don't know, but it's not that.” 

“Look, the stars are coming out,” Kurt says. Blaine's head spins with the sudden change in conversation, but he finds himself looking up. “I love this park, because it's just far enough away from the city that you can see the stars.” 

When he looks back down, he sees Kurt still staring up at the sky, but he catches Sebastian's eye as they both watch Kurt. Sebastian's eyes are bright with affection for Kurt, and he nods toward Blaine with a smile as he tightens his arm around Kurt's waist and kisses the top of his head.

He can't help but feel envious of their relationship, whatever it is. He's never exactly struggled with his own sexuality, but it has been his best kept secret for almost five years. He knows that if word got back to his father, he'd be disowned and disinherited. (Not that the latter matters much to Blaine.) 

“Do you have a boyfriend, Blaine?” 

Kurt's voice startles Blaine and he almost chokes on a breath in his haste to answer. “No!” 

“I'm sorry, I thought you were--” 

“He is, babe,” Sebastian interjects in a quiet reprimand. “He just hasn't come out yet.” 

Blaine suddenly feels like he's choking again. “How did you know?” He looks around quickly to make sure no one's around. Thankfully, the park is well and truly empty except for them. “I can't--”

“Relax, Blaine,” Sebastian soothes. “Kurt and I wouldn't tell anyone. We're not like that.” 

“Nope,” Kurt adds, shaking his head. 

Blaine swallows thickly. “But, how--how did you know?” 

“Well, aside from the fact that I just caught you looking at Kurt like he belongs in a museum...” Sebastian says, smirking. Blaine flushes crimson and casts his eyes to his lap. Sebastian's voice sobers slightly as he finishes. “You just look a lot like I did before I told anyone.” 

“I do?” He looks up to see Sebastian nodding, and there's a sympathetic glint to Kurt's soft eyes. 

“Yeah, you look lost and kinda like you want to scream.” 

“That's kinda how I feel. Lost and want to scream,” Blaine mutters, mainly to himself. He jumps a little when he feels a hand slide into his own and he looks up to see Kurt smiling at him. 

“You don't have to feel that way, honey. You've got us now,” he says brightly, and even though he's only known the pair for about twenty minutes, he can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him, because maybe he's not alone. 

Blaine smiles at that thought, and it's the first time he's honest to god smiled in so long, but of course, Kurt has already changed the subject to something new, so Blaine just lets himself get swept up in the stream of consciousness. 

“Yeah, I ran away when I was sixteen, right after I met Kurt, actually,” Sebastian says by way of answering Blaine's question. “My dad caught us together one night fooling around in the back of my car, back when I had one, and blew a gasket.” 

“Did he hit you?” Blaine asks incredulously. God, if his father ever caught Blaine in the backseat with a guy, he'd be toast. 

“Nah,” Sebastian dismisses, shrugging. “He just started yelling about Jesus, so Kurt and I got out of there before he could get the holy water.”

Kurt was smiling as Sebastian explained, so Blaine figures it couldn't have been all that bad. “Where did you go?” 

“My dad took him in,” Kurt answers. “But he's been really sick lately, so Seb and I got our own place a few months ago. We didn't want him to worry about supporting us.” 

“You guys have your own place?” Blaine asks, feeling the wave of envy wash over him again. 

“Yeah,” Sebastian nods. “It's not much, but we're trying to save up as much cash as we can. We want to move to San Francisco. Kurt wants to see the Haight, but I just want to get the hell out of Ohio.” 

Blaine feels a bit dumbstruck by that. “Why do you want to go there? I mean, I get wanting to get out of Ohio, but why not New York?” 

Kurt's face lights up. “Because San Francisco is where it's all happening. The music, the people. Everything. It's all there. There's nothing here except people with no respect for each other.”

“My dad says that's stupid,” Blaine says absently. 

“It's not stupid, Blaine. It's people loving and caring for each other,” Sebastian says, his voice a bit more serious than Blaine's heard it so far. 

Blaine just shrugs. “I know. My dad says it's just hippie nonsense.” 

Kurt laughs softly at that and takes Blaine's hand again. “And how do _you_ feel about it?” 

“I don't know,” he answers honestly. “I've never really thought about it. I just kinda do what he tells me. It's easier that way.” 

“You'll never be happy like that.” Sebastian is shaking his head. “Believe me, I know.” 

“I like you, Blaine. Has anyone ever told you before that you're absolutely beautiful?” Kurt asks, his voice a little dreamy in a way that Blaine is beginning to find himself falling for. He just shakes his head. “Well they should, because you are.”

“T-Thanks,” Blaine says lamely. 

Kurt just smiles and stretches out until he's resting between Sebastian's legs, leaning back against his chest. He tilts his head toward the sky and Blaine is suddenly aware that Kurt has actually laced their fingers together. “What do you think is up there?” 

“Up where?” Blaine asks, tipping his head back to peer up at the stars, vaguely aware of Sebastian's hand coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“Up there,” Kurt says, pointing toward the sky. 

“Oh, uh, I don't know. Stars and planets and stuff, I guess,” Blaine offers. 

Kurt hums in acknowledgment and leans further into Sebastian as they lapse into silence just staring up at the sky. There's an easy sort of camaraderie among them and before long, Blaine finds himself stretched out on the grass with his head resting against Sebastian's leg as Kurt's fingers card through his hair. 

It's strangely freeing to be sharing such an intimate moment with Kurt and Sebastian. He feels almost like he might, at least for the moment, be part of whatever fluid relationship the boys share, and he can't help but feel a pang of preemptive loss at the idea of going back to the party. 

So, he just lets himself enjoy the moment, staring up at the endless sky and feeling almost free for the first time in his life. 

“Blaine?” Sebastian prompts softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns across the top of Blaine's arm over his sleeve. Blaine just hums in acknowledgment and Sebastian continues. “What is it you want to do? You said your dad's a lawyer, but you don't strike me as the lawyer type.” 

“Does it matter?” Blaine asks. His voice sounds bitter even to himself. 

Kurt sits up straight and he looks almost affronted. “Of course it matters, Blaine. It's your life. You should be able to live it however you want.” 

“What do _you_ want to do, Blaine? Not what your father wants you to do or what you _think_ you should do. What do _you_ want to do?” Sebastian asks, his voice intense and concerned in a way that Blaine isn't quite used to. He's not accustomed to people showing much concern for his own wishes. 

He's not exactly prepared with his answer, but he finds himself blurting out, “I just want to make art and help people.” 

And Kurt nearly breaks Sebastian's leg climbing over it to get to Blaine. “That's beautiful, Blaine!” He throws his arms around Blaine's neck and hugs him tightly. “I knew it! I bet you play piano. And your voice is amazing, so I bet you sing like a dream...” 

“Babe,” Sebastian laughs. “I think you're scaring him.” 

Kurt throws a narrowed-eyed look toward Sebastian before Sebastian laughs and wraps his arms around Kurt's waist to pull him back into his lap. Kurt lets out an indelicate huff as he lands, but Sebastian soothes with a kiss to his temple before turning to Blaine and nodding. “Then that's what you should do. Don't let your dad tell you how to live your life when he seems so dead set on making you live the life _he_ wants you to live.” 

“What do I--”

“You're not going to change his mind, Blaine. He's going to be the way he is no matter what, so the best thing you can do is just be confident in your own path and tell him that you're not going to do what he wants you to do,” Sebastian says seriously. 

Blaine sighs and nods. “I know you're right, but I just--He's my dad, y'know, and I don't want to let him down.” 

“So you're going to let yourself down?” Kurt says. It's not so much a question as an accusation, and Blaine just sighs again. 

“I should be getting back,” Blaine says sadly, because, god, he really doesn't want to leave. 

Kurt nods and turns to rifle through a messenger bag beside him, pulling out a pencil and a scrap of paper. “If you ever need anything, or just want to talk, call us, okay? I mean it. Even if you just want to come over and hang out for awhile.” 

Blaine takes the slip of paper and tucks it into his pocket. “Thanks, guys. I really--I really needed this tonight.” 

“Don't thank us, Blaine. That's what we're here for,” Sebastian says with a smile. Blaine returns it, and Sebastian shakes his head lightly. “God, Kurt was right. You really _are_ beautiful, aren't you?” 

Blaine flushes and looks down. “I-I'll see you around.” 

“Goodbye, Blaine,” Kurt and Sebastian say together. 

Blaine loses himself in thought on his way back, but for the first time in god knows how long, not a single thought is spared for his father or Princeton. He just stares up at the sky and wonders what lies beyond the stars. He feels small, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, and he wonders if maybe that's why Kurt spends so much time staring up at the sky. It has a way of making all of his problems seem much smaller. 

“Blaine! Where have you been? Your mother was ready to leave an hour ago!” His father's stern voice cuts through the silence of the night, but he can't find it in himself to feel as intimidated as he normally would. 

Instead he just shrugs and offers a disingenuous, “Sorry,” before climbing in the back of his father's car. 

He slips his hand in his pocket and pulls out the scrap of paper. Even though he can't read the numbers in the dark confines of the car, the paper still feels like a promise somehow. He reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet, tucking the slip of paper into one of the credit card pockets and returning the wallet to his pocket. 

The entire ride home, he watches the sky through his window, smiling softly at the stars that suddenly feel like an escape and letting his mind drift for the first time in god knows how long. 

By the time he gets home from the party, he's exhausted, the entire night crashing down on him at once. The stifling atmosphere of the party and the almost surreal meeting with Kurt and Sebastian. When me makes it into his room, It's all he can do to strip down to his boxers and fall into bed. He's out cold before his head hits the pillow. 

When he wakes up the next morning, the sun is just barely above the horizon and he lies in bed contemplating the ceiling until the orangish light filtering through his curtains has long since started casting beams of yellow sunlight across the floor, creating prisms of color through the glass to reflect on the carpet. He heaves a sigh and finally climbs out of bed. 

As he crosses the hallway to the bathroom, he can tell he's alone. The silence of the house is unbroken by any of the sounds that usually accompany typical morning tasks. No rustling of a newspaper or the quiet click-thump of a coffee cup being set on the table. 

Just silence. Oppressive and choking in the same way the monotonous chatter of the party had been.

The sound of the toilet flushing echoes deafeningly through the dead house and Blaine feels his skin crawl. Life shouldn't be this quiet. Life is loud--music and laughter. 

But there is no music in the Anderson house and there most certainly isn't any laughter. Such things are frivolous and people who waste their time on frivolous things will never succeed. 

Not for the first time, Blaine finds himself questioning the importance of success, wondering if it's worth the price he has to pay. Music is his voice, his release, his soul, and nothing could possibly be worth selling his soul. 

He closes his bedroom door behind himself and does a quick job of getting dressed, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before crossing over to his bed and sliding the hastily stowed album from between the mattress and box spring, flipping it in his hands to see the front of the sleeve and stare at the strangely captivating and macabre image there, losing himself for a moment trying to put names to all the faces in the black and white and sepia crowd before shaking himself from his reverie and putting the record on the turntable. He stretches out on the floor as the music starts. 

The sound of excited party chatter drifts from the speakers before a bass kicks in, accentuated by a high guitar flourish, and Blaine is immediately captivated, sure he's never heard anything quite like this before in his life, the rough, strained vocals and the driving bass. 

He gets absolutely lost in the intricacies of the music, the psychedelic sound of the third song and the vivid imagery painted by the lyrics. _(“The girl with kaleidoscope eyes...”)_ He listens to that song twice, sure he missed something the first time through.

The aggression in the fourth song interests him along with the jarring guitar that carries over to the next song. 

But the sixth song stops him dead. By the end, he's crying, moved to tears by the lyrics. The longing and determination to escape, coupled with the self-centered martyr parents... It hits him like a train. _(“Fun is the one thing that money can't buy...”)_

“Blaine!” His father's voice makes him jump to his feet and spin toward the door to see the man's furious face. He stabs a finger in the direction of the record player. “What in the hell is that?!” 

Blaine opens his mouth to speak but is immediately silenced by a hard slap to the face. 

“What did I tell you about bringing this trash into my house?!” His father wrenches the record off the turntable and Blaine flinches at the sound of vinyl snapping. He's sure it echoes the sound of his own heart, the pain in his cheek matching the pain in his chest. “No son of mine is going to waste his time on--” 

“It's not a waste of time!” He's not sure what possessed him to say it but it stops his father cold and Blaine watches rage twist the man's face before he feels a fist collide with his eye. 

Blaine says nothing, ignoring the pain blooming high on his cheek and the humiliated tears threatening to fall, and does his best to stride out the door with his dignity. 

Tom's diner is only a mile or so down the road, so he heads there, figuring it's just as good of a place as any to hang out and let the heat die down. It's once he actually makes it inside that he spots the payphone by the door. 

While the diner as good of a place as any, he can think of someplace better. He drops a dime on the call and waits for an answer. Finally, after a couple rings, he gets one. 

“Hey, Kurt, it's Blaine. I need a place to lay low for a little while. Can I come over?” 

  
  


**II**

\----------

“ _How do I feel by the end of the day? (Are you sad because you're on your own?) No, I get by with a little help from my friends.”_

\----------

He's not sure what he expected when he knocked on Kurt and Sebastian's door, but he's pretty sure it wasn't Sebastian answering the door unashamedly naked as Kurt sat on the couch reading a magazine. 

Sebastian's face screws up in concern and he pulls Blaine inside, calling for Kurt before leading him the few necessary steps to the dining room table and telling him to sit. 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” he asks, leaning down to worry over the no doubt impressive bruise on Blaine's cheek. 

He hears Kurt gasp as he steps into view. “Seb, honey, get him some ice.” Kurt's gentle fingers replace Sebastian's on his cheek as the other boy goes to the icebox. “Blaine, what happened?”

“My dad,” he answers, and Kurt pulls in a shocked breath. 

“Your _father_ did this?” He sounds shocked at the mere idea.

Sebastian comes back with a dishcloth filled with ice and holds it gingerly to Blaine's eye. “Yeah, it happens, babe. Not everyone has Burt Hummel for a father,” he points out. “My old man got in more than a few good punches while I was there.” 

Kurt rests a soothing hand on Blaine's cheek and shakes his head sadly. “No. No father should hurt his son. Why would he do this to you?” 

“I broke his rule and played my new record. He snapped it and then he hit me.” 

“What record?” Sebastian asks and Kurt smacks him and says it doesn't matter but Blaine answers anyway. 

“The new Beatles record,” he explains.

Sebastian grins and crosses over to a waist high bookcase packed with records and comes back with the familiar album. “I got it the day it came out, but Kurt gets pissy if I play my Beatles records when he's around.” 

“It gives me a headache,” Kurt complains and Sebastian rolls his eyes. 

“We've got him outnumbered though, so we can put it on if you want,” Sebastian suggests, winking at Blaine as he finishes. 

Blaine smiles when Kurt rolls his eyes. “I'd like that.” 

“Cool!” Sebastian enthuses. “We can put it on right after Monster Movie Matinee is over. They're showing Creature from the Black Lagoon and Kurt's too scared to watch it with me.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes again, but there's a smile quirking his lips. 

“I love scary movies,” Blaine answers, letting himself be led to the couch and pulled down beside a still-naked Sebastian. He barely even flinches when Sebastian throws an arm over his shoulder and pulls him in close. He lets himself relax against the other boy's side before asking, “Not to be rude or anything, but why are you naked?” 

Kurt snorts out a laugh and drops down on the couch on Blaine's other side. “Honey, he's _always_ naked,” he answers with another laugh. 

“I don't hear you complaining,” Sebastian bats back, smirking, before turning to Blaine and stage whispering, “See, he gets his rocks off ogling beautiful, blushing virgins like myself--”

Kurt throws his head back and snorts out another laugh. “ _Virgin_. That's funny, you didn't seem so virginal last night when you--”

“Lies,” Sebastian cuts off, grabbing his heart as though scandalized. “I've never done such things. He's crazy, Blaine. It's a sickness, really. He imagines all these sordid things in his mind.”

“Yes, well, I've got a set of soiled bed linens and an overenthusiastic bite mark on my shoulder that would suggest otherwise,” Kurt defends with a playfully coy smile.

But Sebastian just shakes his head sadly. “Such an affliction. It's so real to him-- _oof_ \--” He breaks off when a pillow smacks into his face.

“Oh, just shut up and watch your goddamn movie,” Kurt laughs, skillfully dodging the pillow that Sebastian fires back.

Blaine just listens to their banter in silence, his smile so wide it almost hurts. It's clear that no matter what their relationship is, Kurt and Sebastian love each other very deeply. Which is as amazing as it is strange. 

Growing up, Blaine learned all about the perversion disease. Was told to stay away from those who suffered from the illness because it was highly contagious. (Not that he ever believed such nonsense. He knows that his being queer isn't something he caught anymore than he could catch a disease that turns his eyes blue or his hair blond.) But, he'd never met anyone like himself, always heard they were either diseased perverts to be pitied or reviled and avoided. 

Again, not that he believed it. Just...sometimes it's nice to be proven right and be reminded that it isn't him, it's the world he lives in. People like himself are capable of love and caring. No matter what the popular opinion seems to be.

“You get lost in your own head a lot, don't you?” Sebastian asks, pulling Blaine from his thoughts. Kurt is busy with something across the room by their bed and at some point Sebastian pulled on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. 

He must really _have_ been lost in his own head. “Oh yeah,” he answers, a bit distracted and slow, shaking his head to clear it. “It happens. I'm sorry.” 

“Don't apologize, sweetheart,” Kurt says, quiet and soft, kissing the side of Blaine's hair as he folds himself gracefully on the couch. The warm, comfortable feeling from the night before settles back in and he can't help but smile at Kurt whose loving blue eyes are absolutely shining with affection and sincerity.

He wonders briefly if he is, once again, as Sebastian described it, “staring at Kurt like he belongs in a museum,” and decides that he probably is. There is something deeply and indescribably beautiful about Kurt. 

The sharp _click-woosh_ of a lighter pulls Blaine back just in time to wrinkle is nose at the pungent smell that assaults his senses. He looks up to see Kurt with some kind of self-rolled cigarette to his lips, the ember blazing bright as he inhales the smoke. 

All the anti-drug reels he's been forced to watch at school paint smoking marijuana as low-class and repulsive, but much like everything else, Kurt makes it look graceful and sexy. He feels heat flicker through his belly as he watches Kurt's eyes flutter closed. There's a beat and then Kurt easily blows the smoke past his lips, parted and glistening slightly from where his tongue darted out to moisten them. 

He wonders if Kurt's lush, pink lips _taste_ as good as they _look_. 

Kurt's eyes slide open and Blaine knows he's been caught staring so he blushes. Soft fingers brush at his cheek. “Beautiful Blaine,” Kurt hums on a breath before leaning forward and kissing him featherlightly on the lips. When he pulls back, there's a gentle smile playing on his lips. “That was your first kiss, wasn't it?” 

Blaine just swallows and nods as he feels Sebastian lace their fingers together and ask, “Did you like it?” 

Again, beyond words, Blaine just nods. 

“Here,” Kurt smiles as he holds the cigarette out for Blaine to take. Which he does without thinking, only to stare at it blankly once it's held between his thumb and forefinger. Kurt patiently guides his hand to his lips. “Just do it like I did.” 

“What will happen?” Blaine asks shakily. He swallows. “Will it--Will it _hurt me_?” 

Sebastian is quick to soothe. “We'd never give you _anything_ that would hurt you, Blaine,” he says as he slides his hand across the top of Blaine's arm. 

Blaine believes him.

He lifts the cigarette to his lips and pulls in a huge-- _too huge_ \--lungful of smoke only to choke and cough it gracelessly back out, his throat burning and eyes watering. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kurt coos sympathetically, taking the offending object from Blaine's hand. “Let's try this. It might be a little easier to start with.” 

Blaine splutters for a few more seconds before nodding and letting Kurt position his body until they're facing. Sebastian's hands come to knead at his shoulders and Blaine feels him press an encouraging kiss to the top of his hair as Kurt continues. 

“I'm going to take a hit and then lean forward to pass it to you. Like a kiss. And when I breathe out, you breathe in and hold your breath until I tell you, okay?” 

As intimate as the act _sounded_ , it's nothing compared to the reality. It's erotic in the most intimate way, feeling as though he's taking the breath from Kurt's lungs into his own in a kiss has Blaine's jeans feeling too tight and his head swimming in a way that has nothing to do with the smoke. 

“Okay, honey, let it out,” Kurt coaxes, and Blaine blows the smoke out much more gracefully than before. He hears Sebastian take a hit and quickly feels himself being turned before Sebastian leans in and kisses him, passing the intoxicating smoke between them. 

Sebastian's lips linger a bit longer than necessary, his fingers sliding along Blaine's cheek as he breathes out the smoke. 

“God, you really are beautiful,” he whispers against Blaine's lips and Blaine huffs out a shaky laugh as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back to rest against the couch. 

After a few good tries (interspersed with several _bad_ tries), Blaine finally gets the hang of taking hits straight off the joint and it doesn't take long before the effects start to take hold. 

He feels...strange. 

Kurt's arms wrap around Blaine's waist and pull him into his lap, holding him close and pressing soft kisses to his head as he hums into his hair. Blaine just lets himself drift, feeling safe and content in Kurt's arms. Sebastian slides over, draping Blaine's legs over his lap as he leans into Kurt's side, taking Blaine's hand in the process. 

It takes awhile for the realization to reach his clouded brain but eventually, Blaine figures out what's strange. For the first time in his life, he feels like he belongs. 

He's not scared or stressed or sad. He's at peace with himself in a way he's never been before. 

Somewhere between his father and Princeton and stuffy business parties, Blaine realizes that he gave up. He gave up part of himself, sacrificed what he loves most in order to make his father proud. Because there's no doubt, if his father knew the real Blaine, he'd be disowned. 

But what's so wrong with being _Blaine_?

It's not until Kurt answers his question that Blaine realizes he'd been thinking aloud. “There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of Blaine's head. “You're perfect.” 

\----------------

Kurt's voice is barely above a whisper, high and choked out in a whine. “Oh god, Seb! Right there! Right _fucking_ there!” 

Blaine's eyes slide open, taking in the sight of Kurt on his back on the floor, sweat glistening on his skin in the dim lamplight, his body arched bowstring-tight off the floor as Sebastian rolls his hips, burying himself inside Kurt's lithe body before sliding back out and slamming back in, setting what looks like an almost punishing rhythm that has them both panting and whining into each others' mouths as they kiss, messy and claiming. He can see Kurt's nails biting into Sebastian's shoulder, hanging on for dear life as he's taken, hard and deep. 

His brain is still fogged from sleep and smoke, but he feels guilty for watching. Leering. Spying. He knows that what he's doing is pure voyeurism but he can't look away. 

He's spent nights fantasizing about strong, calloused hands touching his body, stroking and exploring, imagining wrapping his fingers around a cock that isn't his own and feeling it twitch and pulse in his hand as it came, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this. 

Two moaning, writhing bodies moving together as one. Connected and in sync. 

His entire body feels charged and he's hard and aching in his jeans, desperate for any friction to relieve the maddening pressure, even briefly entertaining the idea of sneaking a hand down the front of his jeans and stroking himself as he watches, wondering if they'd notice his movement as he lays on the couch and peers down at them through barely cracked eyes. 

They're raw and passionate as they cling tight and cry out their release, Kurt first, then Sebastian, before almost melting into each other and sharing soft touches and expressions of love and adoration.

_God,_ Blaine thinks in pure amazement, _they're fucking beautiful._

As the pair's breathing slows into the deep rhythm of sleep, it's easy to fall under the spell of peaceful contentment that fills the air, and shortly, Blaine starts to drift back off himself.

When he opens his eyes again, it's morning and he hears Kurt humming from the kitchen. He smells eggs and bacon cooking and his stomach growls angrily as he sits up. 

“Oh good,” Kurt chirps from in front of the stove. “I was just about to wake you up. Breakfast is ready. Seb's already gone to work, so it's just us this morning.” 

He joins Kurt at the table silently, noting with a small smile the fact that Kurt is wearing Sebastian's t-shirt from yesterday. 

“Did you sleep alright?” Kurt asks, taking a bite of toast. 

Blaine nods and he's not sure what comes over him, but he hears himself say, “I--I saw you guys last night.” 

And whatever response he was expecting, it sure as hell wasn't Kurt's face lighting up into a beaming smile before brightly asking, “Isn't Sebastian _beautiful_?” 

Blaine is absolutely speechless. 

  
  


**III**

\----------

“ _Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown, picks up the letter that's lying there. Standing alone at the top of the stairs she breaks down and cries to her husband, 'Daddy, our baby's gone.'”_

\----------

It turns out that Blaine and Kurt have more in common than he could have ever imagined.

Kurt loves clothes and Broadway, music and good food. They talk about movies and recipes and musicals until finally, Kurt puts on his West Side Story record and they clean up the apartment as they sing along.

Kurt's voice is unlike anything he's ever heard, but Blaine just chalks it up as another beautiful thing about him. He's already lost count of the items on his list.

By the time Sebastian gets home around 6:00, Blaine and Kurt are drinking coffee at the table while dinner cooks.

“Hey, babes,” Sebastian greets them both, smiling between the two boys at the table as he toes off his shoes. He pads over and kisses their heads in turn before taking a beer from the refrigerator and joining them. “So, what happened around here today?” 

Kurt launches into a full account of their afternoon and Blaine just sips his coffee and listens, a small smiles playing on his lips. It's warm, domestic and comfortable, and he feels himself getting lost in it. Sitting with Kurt and Sebastian, he feels like he can actually breathe, doesn't feel choked or stifled. And it's perfect-- _God, so perfect--_ to be sitting like this and seeing a life so vibrant and warm, so bright and loving. He wants it for himself, wishes more than anything that he was actually a part of it instead of just a visitor. 

“Will you be staying with us again tonight, Blaine?” Sebastian asks. “You're more than welcome to if you want.” 

And he wants to stay more than anything, to sit down and never leave, but... “I can't. I've got school tomorrow.” He hears the bitterness in his voice. 

“Oh, that's right,” Sebastian remembers. “You're still in high school, aren't you? How old are you?” 

“Seventeen. I'll be eighteen at the end of the month though.” 

Sebastian laughs and gives him a warm smile. “I keep forgetting how young you are. You seem so much older. I turn twenty next month.”

Concern touches Kurt's face and he turns to fully face Blaine from the sink. “But you're staying for dinner, right?”

“I should really be getting back--”

“Blaine, you helped make the food, you have to stay and eat with us,” Kurt pouts adorably and there's no way Blaine can refuse. Sebastian watches his expression and laughs knowingly. Clearly he's powerless to the expression as well. 

After dinner, despite all of Blaine's protests, Sebastian drives him home, Kurt stretched out across the back seat wearing a pair of stylishly oversized sunglasses. Worry touches his face and he asks, “Sweetie, are you sure you're going to be okay? I don't want him hurting you.” 

“He was just mad before--”

“I don't care. He shouldn't have put his hands on you.” There's steel lining Kurt's voice, giving it an uncharacteristically hard edge. When he leans forward and brushes gentle fingers across the bruise marring Blaine's cheek, his voice is soft again. “No one deserves to be hurt, Blaine. Especially by someone who is supposed to love and support you.” 

Blaine sighs and leans into Kurt's touch. “I know.” It's all he can think to say.

The car slows to a stop at the end of his driveway and Sebastian turns to him with serious eyes. “You'll call us if he tries to hurt you again.” It's not a question. “I'm serious. Any time of the day or night. We'll come get you.”

“Thank you, guys. For everything,” Blaine says by way of an answer. “I am so glad to know you.” 

He opens the door and steps out, meeting Kurt by the side of the car. Warm arms wrap around him and he realizes that he can't remember the last time someone hugged him, so he hugs back tightly, loving the feeling of safety and care that comes from the embrace and then Sebastian is there, pulling him close to whisper in his ear.

“I know what you're walking into. I've been there, but I didn't have anywhere to go. Kurt is beautiful and amazing and I love him with all my heart, but he doesn't understand what it's like to try and have to be the golden boy. He doesn't know what it's like to have to pretend every single day and try as hard you can to live up to someone's expectations. To be trapped in a family that tries to bend and shape you to make you want _they_ want you to be. Just know that you're not trapped anymore. Kurt and I are a phone call away and you can come over and decompress, okay?” 

Sebastian pulls him into another hug before clapping him on the shoulder. “Remember what I said.” 

“I will, Seb,” Blaine says. He touches Kurt's shoulder softly as he gets into the passenger's seat. “Thanks.” 

“ _Blaine! Get in the house! Now!”_

It's clear from the look on Kurt's face that he doesn't want to leave, but Blaine gives him a small “what can you do?” smile and turns back toward the house. He's thankful that Sebastian starts the car and pulls away then, because there's no way they wouldn't hear the shouting that was sure to follow. 

Once he's in bed, he finally lets a few tears escape at the injustice of it all. 

“ _Oh! You were with your friends.” His father's voice was cold and mocking. “Do you know what they_ are _, Blaine? At least one of them is for sure. The flouncy little queer doesn't even have the_ decency _to hide it. They way he was dressed, you'd think he was trying to be Audrey Hepburn or something. Disgusting.”_

_The older Anderson shuddered in distaste before pointing seriously at Blaine. “If you_ ever _start acting like that, I'll beat it right out of you. You've not brought home any girls yet, but I'm not going to jump to any conclusions.”_

_The threat in his father's voice was as clear, sharp, and cold as ice. “You're young and I get that. Boys rebel when they get to be your age. Cooper did it with a leather jacket and a motorcycle, but you'd better get your head on straight, son, because if you don't, we're going to have a problem. I don't want to see you with those bent boys again. They'll make you sick like they are.”_

“ _They're not sick, dad,” Blaine defended, knowing full well the futility of his argument. “They love each other.”_

_His father's cold laugh made his skin crawl. “Is that what those perverts told you? That's how it starts, Blaine. They convince you that they're_ 'normal', _but they're not. They're sick and unnatural. They should be locked away and treated until they're well, but I will not have you around them so they can infect you with their disease.”_

He wonders what his father would do should he ever find out before shuddering and deciding that he can never tell him. He'd hoped that one day he'd be able to tell his parents, but he lets go of the dream. It can never, ever happen. 

At least at school the next day his mind is occupied. Well, at first. 

At first, he's able to focus on his work, able to take notes and direction like the obedient school boy he's been trained to be before it hits him. It's all _training_. Conditioning for the rest of his life. Training him to sit silently with his head down and follow instruction without protest. His stomach twists in disgust and his eyes scan the deadly silent room. A sea of perfect uniformity. 

Wes is training to take over his family's accounting business and David is going to be an advertising executive just like his father. It's a chain, a vicious circle, and it makes Blaine want to tear off his uniform and run. He can't just be another private school boy groomed for a life he doesn't want. He swallows hard and finishes his assignment with the world in a clearer focus. 

He goes directly to Kurt and Sebastian's apartment after school, driving this time. 

It's just Kurt again and they get high and listen to music as Blaine explains his epiphany. He's stretched out on the couch with his head on Kurt's leg, eyes closed as long fingers card through his hair. 

“Seb went to a prep school,” Kurt explains. “He graduated with all A's. Valedictorian, I believe, but he hated it. Of course, Seb never did well with structure. You've got two weeks left and you're free.” 

“I'm not free. After that it's Princeton and a partnership in my dad's firm.” He hears how distressed he sounds and takes a breath. “I can't do that, Kurt. It will kill me.” 

Kurt's sweet voice is soft and simple. “Then don't.” 

And then Blaine kisses him. 

If only it could be that easy. 

\----------------

He doesn't get another chance to visit the apartment for over a week. He races home from school on Friday, intent on changing out of his uniform and going to help Kurt clean. (He'd managed to sneak a phone call on Wednesday when his parents were at a business dinner and was able to talk for almost an hour before having to rush off the phone. The last thing he heard was Kurt's “Keep your chin up, sweetie.” before he had to hang up.)

But when he gets home from school on Friday, his father is waiting on the sofa. Which has never happened before and can't possibly be a good sign now. 

“Come here, son,” his father says, jovial and easy. Two adjectives Blaine has never before attributed to the man. “Come sit with your old man.” 

Blaine crosses the room in a daze and drops down next to his “old man”. He's already nervous and he's sure he's not hiding it well. “What's going on, dad?” he asks as easily as he can manage. 

“This came today. Special delivery.” His father holds up an envelope with the Princeton crest emblazoned on the front and Blaine feels his stomach roll and drop out through his feet. “Said it should have been here weeks ago.”

The envelope is already torn open and his father is beaming with pride, which can only mean one thing. He swallows the acid rising in his throat and fights back bitter tears. “I got in.” 

His father slaps him on the knee and lets out a small, victorious sound. “Oh, I can't wait to rub this in that smug Jenkins' face. Not one but _both_ of my sons on a full-ride to Princeton! I'm going to get you set up for a summer internship just like I did for Cooper. Then you'll have a leg up over the other boys who--”

“No.” It's a quiet exhale that he didn't even mean to voice, but he's shaking under the weight of its truth.

“What did you just say?” The shock on his father's face looks ready to give way to fury at any second and Blaine swallows convulsively.

He hears Sebastian's words in his head. _“Be confident in your path and tell him you're not going to do what he wants you to do.”_

“I said, 'no'.” It's now or never. He can't let himself down. Not anymore. “Dad, I don't want to be a lawyer. I want--”

“I know what you want!” His father shouts, jumping to his feet. “Do you think that I'm _stupid_?! That I don't _see?!_ But no son of mine is going to parade around like a limp-wristed fairy just because he's got a damn song in his heart!” He's towering over Blaine, but Blaine can't find it in himself to be intimidated. 

“I'm sick of you telling me that everything I love is pointless because it's _not_!” Blaine's on his feet now. “Nothing I love will _ever_ be pointless, because it makes me happy. Music makes me happy. Performing makes me happy. And Kurt and Sebastian make me happy. The things I love make me love _myself_ , and I'm sick to death of you trying to belittle that. I'm not going to Princeton. I'm not going to be a lawyer. And music will always be important to me!” 

His father is speechless--a definite first--as Blaine strides past him, going up to his room, packing a bag full of anything that matters and going back downstairs to find his father still standing in the living room. He shoulders his bag and opens the front door. “I'm sorry that I'll never be the son you wanted, but I'm done trying. I have to live my own life because I'm goddamn sick of living yours.”

He slams the door behind him, and stepping outside, he is free. 

\----------------

“Blaine, sweetheart, you're here!” Kurt exclaims from the doorway before his brow furrows with worry. “And you have a bag. Uh-oh. What happened?” 

He lets himself be pulled inside and fussed over for a minute, Kurt taking his bag from his shoulder and setting it down before leading them both to the couch and taking Blaine's hands, rubbing soothing circles over his knuckles. 

“Kurt, relax,” Blaine tries, but Kurt doesn't seem to be willing to be calmed so he continues anyway. “I told my dad that I wasn't going to live his life anymore. That I loved music, loved performing, and loved you and Seb--”

“Oh, honey, we love you, too” Kurt can't seem to help himself and he leans forward and presses a soft but electrifying kiss to Blaine's lips. 

Blaine squeezes Kurt's hands. “I told him that the things I love will always be important to me and that I was sick of him trying to shame me for them.” 

A warm, proud smile graces Kurt's countenance and he kisses Blaine a bit deeper, more lingering. “I am _so_ proud of you, sweetheart.” 

“Why are we proud?” Sebastian's voice comes from the doorway where he's kicking off his boots. “Kurt, your dad wants you to call him.” Sebastian drops down beside them on the couch after pressing a kiss to the top of their heads. “Hey, Blaine.” 

Kurt waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, I'll call him in a minute,” he rushes. “Seb, Blaine stood up to his dad.” 

Sebastian looks troubled. “Are you alright?” His voice is serious and Blaine nods. “Run away?” Blaine nods again.

Kurt smiles hugely. “Well, looks like we've got a roommate,” he says brightly. 

“Good,” Sebastian quips, smirking deviously. “It will be nice to finally be around someone with good taste in music and who doesn't snore.” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and Kurt sticks his nose up. 

“My taste is impeccable,” he defends before smacking Sebastian. “And I most definitely _do not_ snore.” 

Sebastian laughs as he gets up to get a beer from the refrigerator. “He snores and he sticks his ice cold feet right against your legs when he sleeps.” 

And Blaine can't help but smile at the petulance that radiates off Kurt as he drops the needle on his Sound of Music record and pulls Blaine up to dance. They both sing along to the record and laugh at Sebastian's sigh of, “Dear Jesus, not _you too_.” 

He lets Kurt spin him even though it's the wrong music for it before he's being swept off his feet by Sebastian and dropped on the couch, breathless and still laughing as Kurt watches, still dancing happily. Sebastian pulls Blaine into his arms and kisses him. “God, you're _perfect,_ ” he says on a breath. 

Blaine glows under the praise and Kurt dances over, kissing them sweet and chaste on the lips. “You're _both_ perfect.” Another kiss. “My perfect loves.” 

In Sebastian's arms, watching the most beautiful, wonderful boy he's ever seen dance carelessly (and more than a little flirty) around the living room, Blaine finally knows where he belongs and what it means to be truly loved and happy. 

  
  


**IV**

\----------

“ _You gave me the word I finally heard. I'm doing the best that I can.”_

\----------

As it turns out, Sebastian was right. Blaine wakes up at 3:30 A.M. with a start when ice cold feet press against his legs and the sound of quiet, almost endearing snoring coming from the boy next to him. Sebastian's arms tighten around his waist and he feels lips against the back of his neck. “I told you.”

Blaine laughs under his breath and shimmies back into Sebastian's hold. “It's adorable.” 

“He amazes me. Constantly,” Sebastian offers, unsolicited. “I knew the second I saw him that I had to have him.”

“Where did you meet him?” Blaine wonders.

“My first day working at his dad's garage. I saw him and I couldn't breathe for how gorgeous he was. I went over and asked him out and his dad came out of the office and told me that he was paying me to _work,_ not for trying to pick up his son.” 

“So he knew?” 

“About Kurt? Yeah.” 

“What about _you_?” 

Sebastian laughs. “Well, if he didn't before, he sure did _then_.” 

Blaine smiles, glad that Kurt has the support of his family. “So...he's _okay_ with this?” 

“Burt is supportive of whatever makes Kurt happy. They're really close since Kurt lost his mom as a kid, and it's just mindblowing to see how much Burt loves Kurt. It's easy to see why Kurt turned out as free and loving as he did; it's how he was raised.” Sebastian sighs and kisses Blaine's shoulder. “It's the kind of life I wish _you_ had.” 

“Why just me? You deserve that, too.” 

“Nah, I'm a pessimistic, bitter little fuck. It wouldn't have done me any good. But you...you're _good_ and almost as stupidly optimistic as Kurt, and you deserve someone to nurture that and encourage you.” 

Blaine is struck a little dumb by the words and silence stretches on until Sebastian kisses his neck again and whispers, “We really do love you, Blaine. Not just as a friend. We really love you.” 

“I really love you, too.” It comes out in a whisper. 

Sebastian sighs contentedly and tightens his hold again. “You should try and sleep now, babe. You had a pretty rough day.” 

“Thank you for letting me stay here like this.”

“Kurt was already planning to kidnap you if he hadn't heard from you by Sunday.” Blaine is sure that there is probably truth to Sebastian's words. “You're where you belong now. Here. With us.” 

“I love you.” He likes the way the words feel on his lips.

“I love you, too.” 

He smiles to himself. He likes _hearing_ the words just as much as saying them.

\----------

When he opens his eyes again, it's morning. The light filters through the rainclouds, washing the entire room in an almost sleepy gray as raindrops patter against the windows. He's not entirely sure he's ready to be awake yet but he's pulled away from thoughts of sleep by Kurt's whispering from beside him.

“...no, baby. I got this from _Santana_ ,” he says, clarifying something.

“Santana? Is that the blonde who tried to sell us lawn clippings?” Sebastian wonders, his voice amused and only slightly judgmental. 

Kurt laughs brightly. “No, that was Brittany, and in her defense, you did ask her to buy some grass.” He laughs again. “I wondered why she sounded so confused on the phone.” 

“Oh, Santana's the one who got us the good acid last month,” Sebastian remembers and Kurt hums in the affirmative. “Alright, as long as we're not smoking the stems and seeds of some guy's lawn, I guess we should be okay.” 

Blaine sits up just in time to see Sebastian dart a playful kiss to Kurt's lips. When Kurt pulls away, he notices Blaine and smiles. “Good morning, sweetie.” He leans forward to kiss Blaine on the lips. “How'd you sleep?” 

Sebastian laughs toward where his fingers are expertly rolling a joint. “Yeah, Blaine--” He looks up with sparkling eyes. “Tell him how you slept.” 

“I slept _amazingly_ ,” Blaine answers, playfully smug. “And Sebastian is a liar. You were quiet as a mouse all night,” he adds with a coy grin. Sebastian laughs about Blaine being a traitor while Kurt celebrates with his _'I told you so.'_

Kurt settles across Blaine's lap and wraps his arms around his neck as Sebastian lights up the joint. They sit close like that, passing the cigarette until it's gone and they're stretched out on the bed, cuddled close and lost in their own heads. 

A few minutes pass in warm, comfortable silence before Kurt props himself up on his elbow, eyes soft as he watches his fingers trace idle patterns on the front of Blaine's t-shirt. “I think it's beautiful that you're still a virgin,” he says, quiet and easy. 

“Why?” Blaine is sure he'd normally flush red with embarrassment, but he's so calm and conversation comes easily. 

Kurt breathes out a thoughtful sigh. “It's romantic, the Victorian concept of 'touch of the fingertips', only truly baring yourself to your true love. There's something pure about it to me.” 

Blaine can't help but breathe out a laugh. “The only 'touch of the fingertips' has been my own. I was always too scared that my dad might find out, and I'd never been in love before but I knew I wanted to wait. I was hoping that I'd meet someone in college...” He trails off, the _hope_ always went a little hazy after that. He didn't know if there were more guys like him at Princeton--his guess is _probably not_ \--so he never really let himself get too wrapped up in fantasy. 

He's pulled from his thoughts by Sebastian's voice, coming out softer than he's heard it so far as he lifts a hand to rest on Blaine's cheek. “And what are you hoping now?” 

His answer comes before he even gives it a thought. “Turns out, I didn't have to wait until college before I fell in love, and I'm not scared anymore.” 

Kurt tilts his head up and kisses him full and soft on the lips. “You're so beautiful, Blaine. You've got such an amazing soul.” Kurt's hand cups his cheek and pulls him closer as he deepens the kiss, and Blaine just surrenders to the amazing feeling of being kissed by Kurt. He whines quietly against Kurt's lips as he feels Sebastian's hand sliding over his chest and stomach, and he can't help but arch into the touch when Sebastian rests a warm hand low on his belly near the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

“Can we touch you, sweetheart?” Kurt's lips brush his own featherlightly as he asks. Blaine swallows hard and nods. 

He feels fingers push up his t-shirt and ghost over his hipbones in a maddening tease before Sebastian rests his hand flat and slides it into his pants, rubbing Blaine through the fabric of his underwear. He turns his head and attaches his lips to Sebastian's as a desperate whine tumbles out. 

Sebastian pulls away just slightly, breathing roughened and eyes dark with enough _want_ to make Blaine shudder. “Can I take these off? I promise, we can do as much or as little as you want.”

Blaine nods quickly and after taking a breath, chokes out, “Everything. Please, I want _everything_ with you.” 

“We're yours, sweetheart,” Kurt whispers, his breath fanning across the flushed skin of Blaine's neck before pressing a kiss there. “Anything you want, it's yours.” 

Sebastian hooks his thumbs underneath the hem of Blaine's shirt and pulls it the rest of the way off before making short work of the rest of his clothes and moving down Blaine's body to kiss over his chest and stomach, pausing to pay special attention to the tantalizing hipbones that have apparently caught his attention. “God, baby,” he breathes against Blaine's stomach, the words punctuated by a kiss. “Your body is perfect.” 

But Blaine can't really focus on anything other than Sebastian's lips so close to where his cock is laying, hard and wanting, against his stomach. He hears himself whimper out a response and a softer hand slides down his body to wrap long, smooth fingers around his length and start to stroke him slowly. 

“Oh god,” he whines in a breath as he looks down to see Sebastian press a kiss to Kurt's fingers. His back arches and he feels heat coiling in his belly. “I-I'm not going to last,” he warns. 

“It's okay, baby,” Sebastian murmurs, moving up to kiss his neck. “Just come when you're ready. We've got plenty of time.” 

Kurt sucks hard over his pulse and Sebastian nips at his collarbone, and all it takes is a twist of Kurt's wrist on an upstroke to make Blaine's eyes roll back and with a string of shuddering whines, he comes harder than he ever has. He breathes out a shaky laugh and lets his head fall onto Kurt's shoulder as Kurt brushes his clean hand through his sweat-damp curls. 

“Feels better when it's somebody else's hand, doesn't it?” Sebastian asks, his voice bright with soft amusement and all Blaine can offer is another breathy laugh and a nod. Kurt kisses the top of his head before leaning across his body to kiss Sebastian, full and deep, and Blaine's cock twitches with the valiant effort of trying to get hard again. 

Sebastian picks up his own t-shirt from the floor to clean up Blaine's stomach and chest before going back to kissing Kurt, while Blaine watches and just drifts on the warmth and contentment he feels being in bed with Sebastian and Kurt.

It's not long before Kurt and Sebastian have each other naked and turn their attention back to Blaine. Sebastian kisses down his body while Kurt claims his mouth. Blaine cries out when Sebastian's lips wrap around his cock and draw him into the _wethotperfect_ heat of his mouth. It takes a little longer than earlier but not much before Blaine is keening out a half-muffled cry and coming hard down Sebastian's through as he swallows around him.

Blaine's body sags to the bed, absolutely boneless, and he shudders as Kurt claims Sebastian's lips, licking into his mouth to taste Blaine on his tongue. Blaine lets his trembling hands explore the strong expanse of Sebastian's body before wrapping tentative fingers around his flushed cock and delighting in the shocked gasp the action elicits. 

He strokes Sebastian slowly, just reveling in the way he feels in his hand, loving how powerful he feels for being able to draw such an intense reaction out of Sebastian. 

“God, you two are so beautiful together,” Kurt murmurs, breaking away from Sebastian's lips with a wet smack. “Love you so much.” 

Blaine whimpers as Kurt's lips find his own again. “M-More, please.” 

Sebastian looks up from where he was trailing kisses over Blaine's shoulder. “What do you want, baby?” 

“You, please.” And god, he feels _insatiable_. Even though his body feels warm and boneless, he still needs more, craves more of his lovers' touch. He pulls in a breathy gasp as he feels a slick finger tracing around his rim. Before the night he'd seen Kurt and Sebastian making love on the floor, he'd never considered _this_ as a possibility, but since that night, it was all he could think about but he was never quite able to bring himself to try.

His entire body feels relaxed from the combination of the pot and the two orgasms he's had in the last half hour and he sighs contentedly around a whine as he feels two fingers slide easily into him.

Kurt's voice is rough and breathy. “God, you're so open, sweetheart.” By the third finger, he's whining softly and rocking back against Kurt's hand. Kurt kisses his thigh. “Do you want more, honey?” 

Blaine hums out his answer, too far gone to find enough words for a sentence. Kurt busies himself with a condom and more lube as Sebastian turns Blaine's head and kisses him. “This might hurt a little at first because it's your first time, but if you relax and breathe, it will feel amazing. I promise.” He kisses Blaine again, deeper this time, as Kurt presses in, and Blaine's head falls back against the pillows with a gasp, his fingers scrabbling at Kurt's shoulders as he bottoms out. 

“B-Blaine, you feel so good,” Kurt whines, his eyes screwed shut. “I'm not going to last.” 

So far beyond words, all Blaine can manage is a choked whine of what he's pretty sure is supposed to Kurt's name. 

He feels Kurt everywhere, feels Kurt filling and stretching him so perfectly that he can barely breathe with it. And when he feels him pulling out, inching by maddening inch, heat coils low in his belly, making him gasp against Sebastian's lips. Before he can take a steadying breath, Kurt rolls his hips and slides, quick and hard, back inside, stretching him again with the unrelenting thickness. 

“Oh god, Kurt,” Blaine whimpers on a half-breath before his thought is cut off by the steady rhythm of Kurt's hips and all he can muster is a breathy plea of, “Please don't ever stop,” as he digs his nails into Kurt's shoulder and just lets him _take._

Sebastian pulls away from kissing his neck to rest a hand on the side of Blaine's hip and murmur, “Raise your hips a little and try to push back when he thrusts in.” Blaine is quick to follow advice but he cries out and slumps back to the bed with a needy whine when he feels Kurt's cock brush a spot inside him that makes his legs shake. Sebastian pets his hip. “That's it, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

Blaine tries again but can't seem to manage the strength to keep himself up and keeps falling back with a whimper. 

“Baby, slide the pillow under his hips,” Kurt instructs, his soft voice rough with need. “He's shaking too hard.” Sebastian nods and stretches up to kiss Kurt as they both raise Blaine's hips and settle him on a pillow. When Kurt thrusts forward, Blaine nearly screams as he hits that amazing spot again. Kurt quickens his pace and Blaine's entire body is aching and vibrating with the need to come. 

Kurt's clipped voice pulls him from the edge. “I'm close,” he gasps, his breathing as quick and rough as the rhythm of his hips. “God, I'm gonna come.” 

Blaine opens his mouth to beg Kurt to ' _please god don't stop'_ but his words are cut off by Kurt's lips crashing into his own, urgent and desperate as Kurt breathes out a keening moan and stills his hips. A hot shudder ripples through Blaine as he feels Kurt's cock twitching and pulsing inside him. Kurt's whines relax to one last whimpering hum and he brushes a lock of hair from Blaine's forehead. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispers just for Blaine, sounding sated and almost sleepy. “You are _so_ beautiful.” 

A warm smile lifts Blaine's lips. “Love you, too,” is the best he can manage from his hazed brain and Kurt laughs, rolling to the side and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Do you want Seb now, honey?” 

Blaine swallows thickly and nods, the desire to feel full and taken again making him ache in the most amazing way. It only takes a minute for Sebastian to prep himself and stretch out over Blaine, pressing their lips together in a kiss so soft, slow, and sensual that Blaine feels like his heart might burst from how full of love he is. 

“Ready?” Sebastian asks, breath fanning over Blaine's swollen lips, and Blaine nods. 

He gasps and lets his head fall back onto Kurt's outstretched arm when Sebastian pushes inside him, taking little care to go slow, and starting out at the same rhythm that Kurt had set. Sebastian is a bit thicker but not quite as long as Kurt, but he feels beyond perfect as he takes him. 

Blaine writhes against the sheets, his heels digging into the _fleshyperfect_ swell of Sebastian's ass as he feels himself being driven toward his release. And when Kurt's hand snakes between them and wraps around his cock, it only takes a few strokes before he's clinging to Sebastian's neck and crying out his release into his shoulder. Sebastian follows almost immediately after.

Blaine is trembling as he comes down, pulled tight against Kurt's side as long fingers card through his hair. His entire body aches in the most perfect way, he feels warm and loved and safe as Sebastian stretches out beside him and kisses his shoulder before draping an arm over his waist, and Blaine is sure he's never been so sleepy in his life. 

Kurt presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “Sleep, sweetheart.” 

And that's all the invitation Blaine needs. He nuzzles against Kurt's chest and is out cold within minutes.

\----------

Kurt is packing a lunch for Sebastian to take to Burt at the garage when three sharp fist-pounds to the door make him jump. Sebastian meets Kurt's eyes and frowns. “Go make sure he doesn't get up,” Sebastian instructs, pointing toward where Blaine is still dead to the world on the bed. Kurt nods but doesn't move, deciding instead that he'd rather be close enough to help Sebastian should he need it. 

Because there's no doubt who's at the door. 

“What have you perverts done with my son?!” Blaine's father demands, furious, trying to shove his way into the apartment and getting just far enough inside to see Kurt standing in nothing more than a pair of cotton sleep pants and mussed hair. The elder Anderson freezes as he steps further inside and his eyes dart from Kurt to the rumpled bed in the corner of the room where Blaine is nuzzling contentedly into Sebastian's pillow as he shifts in his sleep, the movement causing the sheet to slip down far enough to reveal the very top of the pert swell of his ass. 

The man opens his mouth to yell but Sebastian cuts him off. “Your son is here because he doesn't want the life you chose for him. He wants to have a say in how he lives his life and not be forced into a job and a life that makes him miserable.” 

Kurt steps forward, his voice soft and hopeful. “Your son is an artist, Mr. Anderson,” he tries and Sebastian braces himself to intervene. “You should be proud and encourage him. He is smart and charming and creative, and you should be so proud of what an amazing son you have instead of trying to stifle him. You should give him the love and support he needs.” 

Mr. Anderson's face twists with rage. “What in the hell could you possibly know about love?” he spits and Sebastian steps forward, posturing himself protectively between Kurt and the man. “If your father cared a bit about _you_ , you wouldn't be a disgusting Sodomite who goes around preying on good boys! He'd have had you strapped down to a table getting electroshock therapy until you were normal.” 

“Hey!” Sebastian shoves the man hard and stabs a finger in his face. “You don't talk to him like that!” Sebastian is furious but he still rests a hand on Kurt's shoulder to comfort, sparing a look to see that Kurt looks unbothered by the cruel words. “And let me tell ya, buddy, you've got a better chance of seeing Jesus than having me let you walk out that door with Blaine.” 

“Dad?” Blaine's voice is soft and still sleepy, and Kurt and Sebastian spin around to see him sitting up in bed, the sheet covering his lap. “What are you doing here?” 

“Get up, get dressed, and get your things,” his father instructs through gritted teeth. “We're leaving.” 

Blaine shifts, wraps the blanket around himself, and stands up. “No. I'm not going with you. I'm staying here with Kurt and Sebastian. I'm calling Dalton on Monday to tell them where to send my diploma.” He crosses his arms. “I told you that I'm done trying to live _your_ life and I meant that.” 

“ _This_ is sick, Blaine!” his father shouts, but Blaine doesn't flinch. “ _You're_ sick!”

Sebastian looks about ready to intervene but Blaine shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “I'm not _sick_ , I'm a homosexual,” Blaine announces. It's the first time he's said the words aloud. He feels Sebastian's hand come to rest on the small of his back giving him enough courage to continue. “I'm not ashamed that I am in love with Kurt and Sebastian, just like I'm not ashamed to say that I want to be a musician. I'll play music on the street to get by if I have to,” he says evenly, looking his father dead in the eye and smiling. 

“Because, unlike you,” he continues. “I'm following my dream, and as long as I get to share my music with the world, I will _always_ be happy, and _that_ is what _I_ want my life to be. I don't want Princeton or money or power, I just want to lay my head down at night knowing that I'm as happy as I can possibly be.” 

His voice is determined and sure. “As long as I have music and love around me, I _will_ be as happy as I can possibly be.” 

There's fury sparkling in his father's eyes and low and rough, through gritted teeth, he says, “Well then, if you've made up your mind, Cooper will be glad to hear that his inheritance just doubled.” 

Blaine shakes his head and smiles. “Be sure to tell him it's a gift from me.” 

“Now, if you'd kindly get the fuck out before you lose about half your goddamn teeth,” Sebastian grits out. He follows the man to the door and slams it behind him before turning back to Blaine with worried eyes. “Are you okay, baby?” 

And Blaine just _cracks._ He starts laughing so hard his chest burns with it. He feels like he could fly. “I-I've wanted to say that since I was fourteen years old.” 

Kurt leads him back to the bed, Sebastian sitting down on his opposite side as Kurt takes Blaine's hands and starts talking. “Honey, we are _so_ proud of you!” He kisses Blaine full on the lips. “You were _amazing!”_

“I _feel_ amazing,” Blaine breathes, falling backwards onto the mattress and sighing happily. “I've never felt as amazing as I do right now.” 

Sebastian smirks deviously as he throws a leg over Blaine's waist and straddles him. He leans down to kiss him before whispering, “Well, let's see if we can fix that.” 

With a laugh and an untroubled smile, Blaine lets the sheet get pulled away. 

\----------

They leave Ohio on a Tuesday. The windows down to fill the car with the breeze from the open road as they head west for the coast. Kurt talks about taking a job as a singer in a nightclub with Blaine playing behind him, and Sebastian just listens. 

It's a chance for a fresh start thousands of miles away from home in a land of opportunity, and even though there is the always the definite possibility that they'll be stateless and hungry when their meager savings give out, Blaine couldn't possibly be happier. 

\----------

“ _When you've seen beyond yourself--then you may find, peace of mind is waiting there--And the time will come when you see, we're all one, and life flows on within you and without you._

\----------

\--End


End file.
